


Brother for Sale

by spaceylacey83



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Brotherly feels, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Thorin is like santa only he comes more than once a year, please don't let my OFC be a Mary Sue, she's more of a plot piece than anything else, young!Fíli, young!Kíli
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceylacey83/pseuds/spaceylacey83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fili and his brother haven't always gotten on so famously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother for Sale

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic of the new year! 
> 
> The way I figure, dwarves don't necessarily grow any slower than your average human, they just take a little longer to mature physically and emotionally. I've never seen anything that would dispute this, so I'm going with it. According to lore, Fili and Kili were 82 and 77 when they went to Erebor. I decided I wanted to see what they were like when they were *much* younger. Even though it's not included in the Hearts and Minds series, I feel pretty sure that this is the Fili and Kili that eventually went on the quest with Thorin and Bilbo. Title is taken from the adorable Shel Silverstein poem (which I think this Kili might appreciate). Happy New Year and I hope you like it!

Fíli’s new boots are a special gift, given to him for his tenth birthday by his uncle. They are made of leather so fine that his mother had touched them and declared them, ‘like butter,’ and they are embellished with metal, cleverly worked by Thorin, himself. They’re quite grown up looking and Fíli feels rather important when he gets to wear them and walk around town with his uncle, who is very important, himself.

So, when Fíli steps into his bedroom to get dressed and finds his little brother wearing them, he is understandably upset. 

“What are you doing,” he wails, and Kíli startles and nearly tips over. He doesn’t because the boots are nearly as big as he is. His little legs are hidden entirely and he is standing at the very spot beside the bed where Fíli had set them the night before, looking very much like he has simply crawled up and hopped in. “You can’t even walk in those! Why are you wearing my boots?”

“Uh,” Kíli says, but then he apparently decides that the best answer is to simply get out of the boots. Fíli watches him struggle for a moment and then sighs and goes to help him. He lifts Kíli out by his armpits and sets him, none too gently, on the floor beside the bed. “I wasn’t trying to make you angry,” Kíli says, hesitantly, once he is free.

“No, you were trying to wear my boots,” Fíli grumbles, inspecting them for damage. “You’re not old enough for boots like these, Kíli, or Uncle would have given _you_ a pair.”

Kíli draws himself up to his full height, which Fíli finds mostly unimpressive since it looks like he’s about to cry, and says, “I think they’re awful boots anyway,” and then he turns and runs out of the room.

Fíli is fine with that. The little snit is bothersome and never lets Fíli do anything without trying to be involved somehow. He doesn’t seem to understand things like why Fíli would want to paint his own wooden soldiers without the help of a sloppy five year old or why Fíli might want to keep his very fine new birthday boots for himself.

He dresses quickly, because his uncle is waiting for him. The caravans have come in from the eastern kingdoms and Thorin usually takes his nephews out to see what new and exciting things have come in with them. Fíli has been saving coins for some time so that he has a little money to spend and, with his new boots, he feels very grown up, indeed.

Kíli is sulking at him when he comes out and toeing the floor with his cloth shoes. Fíli makes sure to let his heels clop firmly as he walks, so that he sounds just as big as Thorin does.

“Here’s the lord of the manor,” Thorin says, smiling when he sees Fíli in the doorway, and Fíli smiles back, proudly.

The brothers are draped in coats and woolen scarves by Dís, and kissed on the cheek before Thorin is allowed to leave with them. Kíli, the tragedy of the boots forgotten in the excitement of a trip to the market, dances along ahead of his brother and uncle and chatters about all of the things Thorin has missed since his last visit.

“…And I wrote your name, and mother’s name, and Fíli’s name. Fíli’s name is easy because it’s like mine with the other letter. And Balin said I had the best handwriting he’d ever seen but I couldn’t write his name at first and he said that was ok and then I did write his name…”

Fíli isn’t sure how other people put up with this. He’s certain he was never this annoying at Kíli’s age. Thorin listens to the ongoing stream of words as though it is news of the gravest importance, however, and when Fíli meets his eyes with a long-suffering look, his uncle only smiles warmly and pats him on the shoulder.

***

Her name is Alvë and Fíli thinks she’s just about the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Her father sells jewelry in the town square and her family is well known and well-to-do on top of that. She has fiery red hair that draws his eye from anywhere in a room and green eyes that always seem to be sparkling and happy, a full mouth that smiles often, and a laugh that makes Fíli feel warm all over. He’s been meaning to actually speak to her for some time now but she never seems to be alone and Fíli isn’t quite brave enough to approach her while people are watching.

“You’re always staring at that girl,” Kíli observes, one day while Fíli is taking him Outside for archery practice. Fíli is fifteen years old now, with a bit of scruffy beard on his chin and a quick hand with a blade, thanks to his uncle’s instruction. Dís trusts him well enough for short trips to the archery range just outside the gates. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you say two words to her, though.”

“You talk too much, Kíli,” Fíli grumbles, looking pointedly at the ground in front of his feet as he walks. Kíli tugs on his sleeve and Fíli jerks his arm away, grumbling. “Stop and just come on, all right? I don’t even want to go Outside, today.”

“But, I think she’s coming over here. And you’re leaving.”

Fíli stops so abruptly that Kíli crashes into him and they both nearly end up on the floor. They right themselves, bickering about which one is the bigger idiot, and Fíli gives Kíli an annoyed shove. 

Sure enough, though, there over Kíli’s shoulder, is Alvë. She looks like she’s trying not to laugh but she is most definitely approaching the two of them.

“Hello, Alvë,” Fíli says as she draws near, but his voice breaks on the words, like it has been doing so much lately, and Fíli feels his face begin to heat up. 

“Hello, Fíli,” Alvë answers, and all is right with the world again, because Alvë knows Fíli’s name and she is here, talking to him of her own volition. He stares at her for a moment and she stares back at him. She seems to be waiting for him to say something, which is ridiculous because she’s the one who approached him, and Fíli ends up staring at her, slack jawed, while he tries to come up with useful words.

“Fíli is taking me to the archery range,” Kíli says, helpfully, in the ensuing silence.

“Oh, how interesting,” Alvë answers, smiling at Kíli and then Fíli again. “Are you very good with a bow, Fíli?”

“No,” Fíli says, and Alvë gives him a bit of a funny look. He clears his throat and silently berates himself for being stupid. “I’m not… I’m just taking him. He’s been learning the bow from our uncle, but Mother won’t let him go by himself.”

“I’m ten,” Kíli offers, as an explanation.

“And kind of dumb,” Fíli finishes for him. Kíli punches him in the arm, but it doesn’t hurt, and Alvë laughs at them.

It is agreed that Alvë will join them at the archery range, though Kíli hems and haws about the idea of having someone new watching his practice. Fíli hints that his brother will know pain if he messes this up, though, and Kíli stops grumbling.

It is a bright, clear day Outside with a gentle breeze and the slightest cool nip of the coming autumn. The three young dwarves squint until their eyes adjust and then make their way to the little used archery range near the guard houses. Perched on a slope rising east in front of the city gates, the archery range is attended mostly by the guard and empty most of the times that Fíli has brought Kíli here. Kíli loves it out here but Fíli always feels mightily exposed when they come to the range, with the endless grasses and the wide open sky over his head. His brother’s always been a bit odd, though. Fíli reckons any dwarf with any sense would agree with him. It’s just big out here.

“He is rather good, isn’t he,” Alvë says, sitting beside Fíli on a hay bale. They are a few feet off of Kíli’s right side, watching him fire blunt arrows into straw targets with a depth of concentration that is actually rather impressive for a ten year old child. Kíli’s aim has always been rather good, though, and Thorin had brought him a lightweight toy bow after the first time Kíli had intentionally thrown one of his blocks and pegged Fíli right between the eyes with it. Dís had allowed the gift only after strict instructions (which she forced Thorin to endorse) were laid down and Kíli has been playing with bows and arrows ever since. The story makes Alvë laugh out loud and Fíli feels a quiet thrill at the sound of it.

“You care very much about your little brother,” Alvë tells him once the story is finished, and she laughs again when Fíli scoffs. “I can tell by the way you speak of him.”

“I say horrible things about him, though,” Fíli says, flabbergasted. He sends a rude gesture his brother’s way when Kíli laughs and calls out his agreement. Alvë only smiles.

“You’re lucky to have a brother, you know. My father says his brothers are his closest friends and they’re over all the time for visits. You don’t ever have to be alone.” She sounds a little bit sad when she says this last bit. Fíli knows that she has no siblings of her own but he had never imagined that she wanted any. The very idea of it is mad.

“You’re welcome to him,” Fíli says. “I would have handed him off years ago but mother would never have let me.” Alvë only shakes her head, smiling, but Fíli realizes when he looks up that Kíli is watching them with his bow lowered and a bit of a frown on his face and the sight makes Fíli feel just bad enough to shut up.

They sit together in silence for a while longer as Kíli empties his quiver and then fills it back up to try again. Fíli sneaks lots of little sideways looks at Alvë and a few times, she spots him at it and answers with a knowing little smile that makes his heart beat just a bit faster. He can hardly believe his luck: out here in the big wide world with Alvë so close. It feels adventurous and exciting and Fíli is just gearing himself up to reach out for her soft looking hand when a hateful, familiar voice bursts his bubble.

“Couldn’t find anyone but Fíli and his sister to spend your day with, Alvë? I’m shocked.”

Hoskar and Boskar are twins and are just as spoiled as Fíli has always heard twins were. Twins are special, apparently, more so than brothers born five years apart the way Kíli and Fíli were, at least.

To her credit, Alvë only looks annoyed at their interruption. “I _wanted_ to come here with Fíli and his _brother_ ,” she snipes back. “You’d better leave before he shoots you. He’s very good.”

Across the range, Kíli has lowered his weapon again and is watching their new visitors suspiciously. 

“I’m not afraid of her,” says Boskar, and Fíli feels his hands clenching into fists.

“What do you want,” he asks, doing his very best to remain level headed and, possibly, come out of this looking like the bigger person. Boskar smirks at him and just that is enough to make him angry all over again.

“I don’t want anything, I suppose,” Boskar says. “I just saw you and the elf, here, going Outside with Alvë. I wanted to make sure she was all right.”

“I’m not an elf,” Kíli shouts from across the way. It is not the first time someone has directed this epithet at him and Fíli knows how very deeply he despises it. In fact, the only real fistfight Fíli’s ever been in with his brother had been started by his own use of the word. Hoskar and Boskar are a good two years older than Fíli, though, and they are both much bigger than he is. Where he is beginning to show a beard, they have enough scruff to brush and braid a bit and their jerkins are stretched tight over muscled arms and chests. Kíli, wisely, sticks to his mark on the range and Fíli does his best to make his fists and his jaw unclench. He hates these two. Oh, does he ever.

“I’m fine,” Alvë says, firmly. She reaches out and takes Fíli’s hand in hers, pointedly, and for a moment Fíli forgets that Hoskar and Boskar are there. His jaw drops and he looks down at their joined hands with wide eyes. “Please, leave us alone.”

Boskar doesn’t like that, apparently. He scowls at them both and Fíli sees that he is looking at their clasped hands as well. “I’m going back Inside anyway,” he snaps. “I don’t have any use for elves or,” and here he directs a very nasty look Alvë’s way, “other refuse.” Only, before he can turn around Fíli is up and has landed one, good, solid punch across his jaw.

For a moment, everything seems to freeze. Alvë’s mouth is open wide in shock and so is Boskar’s. Hoskar is looking dumbly from his brother to Fíli, who feels suddenly very aware of how much _larger_ the two of them are than him.

 _Well_ , he thinks, _I’ve done it now_.

“My brother is _not_ an elf,” he spits, suddenly overcome with the reckless bravery of one who has already done something irredeemably stupid. “And Alvë is _not_ refuse.”

They beat him soundly, while Alvë panics and screams for them to stop. Kíli tries to help him but in the end, Boskar and Hoskar go Inside only a little worse for the wear after leaving the brothers in the dirt, each with a matching shiner forming around his eye.

“Those brutes,” Alvë declares, once Hoskar and Boskar are gone, reaching down to help Fíli and then Kíli up off of the ground. “I can’t believe them! Going about, making everyone miserable. I hope they… I hope something awful happens to them!”

“That would be nice,” Fíli agrees, prodding the puffy skin around his eye gingerly. 

“It was pretty funny when you hit him, though,” Kíli points out. Despite the fight, and his rapidly swelling left eye, he seems to be in high spirits. Fíli genuinely doesn’t understand him, most of the time. “I thought you had knocked him dumb. Did you see? He looked like some great, stupid beast with his mouth all open and his eyes crossed.”

“I saw, Kíli.”

“That was amazing!”

Finally, Fíli laughs. “Kíli, we just had the daylights beat out of us. That was not amazing.”

“It was amazing when you hit him,” Kíli disagrees and Fíli can’t help but grin a little bit too, remembering the shocked look on Boskar’s ugly face.

“All right, so it was kind of good,” he agrees. Alvë is smiling at the two of them and, after Kíli has collected his bow and his practice arrows, Fíli walks them both back inside.

***

For Kíli’s fifteenth birthday, he receives his first recurve bow. A gift from Thorin, it is an elegant weapon and Kíli is in awe of it, handling it gingerly as he hefts it weight and traces the graceful curves with his fingers. He can’t draw the bow, yet, but Thorin assures him that, with time, his strength will grow.

“And when it does, you will have a fine bow waiting for you. This was made by a bowyer in the men’s city of Gondor, far to the east, where the caravans are from.” Kíli’s eyes widen a bit and he looks again at the sleek, dark bow in his hands. Thorin smiles. “Care for it, and you will have it for many years to come.” 

“Thank you, Uncle,” Kíli says, and sets the bow down carefully so that he can throw his arms around Thorin’s waist for a hug. Fíli can’t help but grin a little, as well. Kíli looks ready to dance, he’s so happy with his gift.

“I’ve brought you something as well,” Thorin says to Fíli, once Kíli has turned his attention fully toward his new bow. He presses a small, light package into Fíli’s hands and watches as he removes the cloth wrapping, excitedly. 

Inside is a set of elegant bronze hair ornaments, much like the ones Thorin wears in his own hair. Fíli studies the delicate filigree and runs his fingers over the smooth metal, then grins at his uncle. 

“I know it’s not quite a new bow,” Thorin says, watching as Fíli inspects his gift. “But I did think of you when I saw them.”

“They’re wonderful,” Fíli says, brushing off the apology without a second thought. “Thank you, Uncle.” 

“Oh, those are lovely,” says Dís, spotting Fíli’s gift and coming over for a closer look. “Thorin, if you aren’t careful you’re going to spend all your coin on these boys and I’ll be left with two spoiled sons when you’ve run out.” Her smile is warm, though, and she refuses to let Fíli out of her sight until he has submitted to her hairbrush so he sits quietly, enjoying the rather relaxing sensation of his mother’s hands in his hair, braiding and twisting and brushing. When she finishes, she offers Fíli her looking glass so that he can see himself. “You look just like your father,” she tells him, a wistful note to her voice that makes Fíli feel a little wistful, himself. 

Fíli doesn’t remember his father’s face very well anymore but when he looks into the glass he only sees himself: neatly brushed, with enough of a beard to be called respectable. The ornaments are dark in his fair hair and his mother’s braids are intricate and clever. Fíli grins a little at the sight of himself.

Alvë likes Fíli’s new look as well and she smiles brightly when she sees him approaching her father’s jewelry shop with Kíli in tow, as usual.

“Fíli, you look so smart,” she says, admiringly, and makes him turn all the way around so that she can see his mother’s handiwork. Fíli does, feeling pleased and rather handsome, as she looks him over with her sparkling green eyes.

“It’s my birthday,” Kíli says, after a moment. “I got a new bow from Uncle and Fíli got hair things.”

Alvë smiles at him. “For your birthday, did he? And a happy one to you, dear. You’re… Wait, don’t tell me,” she teases, even though she knows very well that Fíli is twenty and Kíli is almost exactly five years younger.

“I’m fifteen years old,” Kíli says, unable to wait for her. He puffs out his chest and stands up to his full height, which is, Fíli has noted with some displeasure, exactly the same as his older brother’s. Otherwise, he doesn’t quite look old enough to be so tall, with his huge brown eyes and baby smooth chin. If he has to be up Fíli’s rear end all day, it is good, at least, that Alvë finds him endearing.

“I know, I know. Happy birthday, Kíli. Here.” She holds out a little box for him and Kíli takes it, looking surprised. Fíli is a bit surprised himself. Alvë seems to take the meaning behind Fíli’s expression because she gives him a look that’s somewhere between reproving and amused. “It’s from my father,” she says. “It’s nothing all that special, but he knew your birthday was coming up and he thinks you’re a good lad.”

Inside the box is a small silver eagle, delicately engraved and shining brightly. Kíli turns it over in his hands, wonderingly, inspecting the tiny feathers and the little beak. Alvë looks pleased with his reaction. “He says you’ve got an eagle’s eyes, so he made one for you to keep in your pocket.”

“Tell him thank you very much,” Kíli says, looking up from the eagle with a bright, pleased smile on his face. “Wait, is he in there? I’ll go tell him thank you.” Kíli disappears into the little shop, leaving Alvë and Fíli alone at the door.

“And what do you have planned today,” Alvë asks, then, and suddenly she is very coy and Fíli is very interested.

“Nothing,” he says, even though he and Kíli are quite literally on their way to the range Outside. Kíli is now the same age Fíli had been when their mother first allowed them to go Outside without an adult, but she still won’t tolerate either of them trying to go by themselves. 

Alvë laughs. “Nothing on your little brother’s birthday?”

“Ha,” Fíli hedges. “Well, nothing that… It’s fine.”

Alvë raises an eyebrow at him, but her smirk is devilish and intriguing. “I was actually hoping to talk to you today. My mother is travelling to the Iron Mountains to visit family and my father is here at the shop…”

And she has no brothers or sisters which means that her house is likely empty. They have already stolen moments together but Fíli knows that there are many things that they can do which they haven’t yet. The look on her face is promising. Fíli decides the archery range can wait.

When Kíli comes back out, Fíli pulls him off to the side before he can say anything. 

“Kíli, I can’t go to the range right now.”

“What? I’ve been waiting all day for you.” Kíli frowns at him and crosses his arms. “Why not?”

“Because… Well…” Fíli shakes his head. “Nothing. Can we go later?”

“Fíli! It’ll be dark soon. It’s my _birthday_!”

They bicker quietly until Kíli, determined to work his way up to the strong recurve, puts his foot down and declares that he is going to the range whether Fíli comes with him or not. Their mother would be furious but she wouldn’t be too happy about what Fíli hopes to do either. They make plans to meet back up in front of the jewelry shop so that they can head home together and then they separate, Kíli moving off through the crowd with a determined step and Fíli returning to Alvë, who looks concerned. 

“I wasn’t trying to start a fight between you on his birthday,” Alvë says, apologetically, when he has joined her at the door again.

“Oh, you didn’t. He’s just… You know, Kíli.”

The look on her face indicates that she doesn’t believe him but her father’s shop is going to be closing soon and their window will have closed with it. So, in the end, Kíli goes to the archery range and Fíli goes to Alvë’s home. 

***

When Fíli makes it back to their meeting place, he has a spring in his step that is dampened only slightly by his guilt at brushing Kíli off on his birthday. Kíli might not be able to understand, yet, but there are things in life so much more important than archery and Fíli has just gotten a taste of them. He tries to sober himself up a little, because he’s certain that Kíli will still be angry with him and he doesn’t want to rub it in, or have to admit to his brother the reason for his cheery mood.

Only Kíli never shows up. Fíli waits for him until well after their appointed meeting time has come and gone and then waits for him some more, anxiety slowly beginning to settle in as he realizes that Kíli isn’t coming. He asks the guard at the great door who remembers seeing Kíli leave but cannot recall seeing him return.

It is fully nighttime, now, and when Fíli steps out of the great doors, he looks up into all the inky blackness with wide eyes and a pounding heart. He has never been out here alone and he’s certainly never come at night.

“Kíli,” he calls, tentatively. There is no answer and Fíli begins making his way toward the slope where the archery range is, feeling guilty and panicky and more than a little terrified of the endless stretch of night sky. Kíli is not there when Fíli reaches the top of the slope but, Fíli realizes, his lightweight compound bow is, leaning carefully against the target as though it is still waiting for its owner. 

Fíli feels like his heart has stopped beating. He hurries over and grabs the familiar bow, a thousand different horrible ideas filling his head, and when he calls for Kíli again, there is a note of desperation in his voice. No answer. Fíli turns this way and that, unsure where to go or what to do or how to go about finding Kíli. His brother might be fond of the outdoors, but Fíli can’t imagine him going any farther than the archery range on his own, and certainly not without his bow. Then, his eyes light on the fence, behind the targets at the edge of the range. One of the old boards there is broken and Fíli feels something cold settling in the pit of his stomach. He rushes over and looks down, his eyes catching on a flash of blue cloth in the moonlight.

Kíli is there. He is utterly still, lying in an uncomfortable looking heap at the foot of the drop.

“ _Kíli!_ ” His little brother does not move and Fíli feels like being sick. He races back down the slope and runs the many yards along the cliff’s face, not stopping until he has reached Kíli’s side. The younger dwarf is pale and his face is streaked with dirt and old tears but, now that he’s close enough, Fíli can see that he is still drawing breath and he feels a rush of relief so all-consuming that he nearly cries. “Kíli, wake up!”

It takes a few breathless seconds and a bit of prodding before Kíli’s brown eyes open and he lets out a pained groan. “Fíli?”

“Oh, Kíli, I thought you were… I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have… What happened?”

"The fence broke when I leaned on it," Kíli says. He looks embarrassed but he also looks hurt and Fíli figures that lectures about old fences and high places can wait until their mother has the chance and the desire to deliver them. “I hurt my leg,” he adds, his face twisted with pain and humiliation. “I can’t walk on it. I think I broke it. I tried to call out but I don’t suppose anyone heard me. I was going to try and make it back to the door but I felt ill so I figured I would wait until I felt better.” His voice is tight and his words clipped and Fíli suspects that Kíli is trying very, very hard not to cry. “But I haven’t yet.”

“Kíli, I am so sorry,” Fíli repeats. “I never should have let you come out here by yourself.”

“I’m not some babe in arms,” Kíli grumbles, “You being here wouldn’t have magically made the fence stronger or me smarter, you know.”

“You wouldn’t have lain out here for who knows how long, alone with a broken leg,” Fíli points out, and Kíli doesn’t have any argument to make against that.

Fíli tries to lift his brother off the ground, but he’s almost as big as Fíli is and the movement jars his injured leg. Kíli lets out a scream that makes Fíli’s blood run cold and Fíli quickly lets go of him. “I’m sorry! I’m… I’m going to go get the guard,” he says, because Kíli is sobbing and he has no idea what to do. “One moment, Kíli. Just wait. I’ll be right back!”

He feels terrible leaving Kíli there again, but he does his best to make up for it by running faster than he ever has in his life. The great gate feels farther away than it should be, though, and Fíli is so breathless when he reaches it that the guard there can’t understand what he wants. 

“My brother,” he says, chest heaving as he struggles to draw the air he needs. “He’s hurt, he fell off the-.”

“Fíli!” Thorin’s voice booms across the square and Fíli startles at the sound of it, and then feels a hot rush of relief. His uncle’s expression is entirely serious and Fíli is almost certain that he’s going to be in a world of trouble after all of this is said and done. It doesn’t matter now, though. Kíli is still alone in the dark Outside and Fíli is in a panic.

“Uncle!” He hurriedly explains the situation to Thorin, pulling him back towards the great doors as he does so, so that they will already be on their way back to Kíli by the time Thorin is up to speed. When Thorin hears what has happened though, his face pales and he runs with Fíli to the spot where Kíli is still laying, curled in the high grass.

Even though moving Kíli causes him obvious pain, Thorin does it anyway and Fíli is glad for his certainty, glad that something is finally happening. He hurries along beside Thorin as they head back Inside, watching Kíli anxiously even though Thorin has him cradled carefully in his arms and is likely about to be a lot more useful than Fíli is. 

“Hold on, Kíli,” Fíli says, around the knot in his throat, maybe for his own sake as much as Kíli’s. “Everything is going to be all right.” 

***

A few stressful, painful hours later, Kíli is tucked into his bed and sound asleep, his leg set and bound up with wooden splints. Fíli is sitting sideways on his own bed, his back against the stone wall, and his eyes on his little brother’s sleeping form. He’s never felt so guilty in his life as he does, right now, but no one is yelling at him and his mother and uncle have retired to the kitchen for tea, so he simply stews in it for a while until the high emotion of the day catches up with him and he drifts off, still leaned up against the wall.

He is uncomfortable when he wakes again, his head lolling and his position only partially upright anymore. He scowls a bit when he realizes that he has fallen asleep in his clothes and he stands up to pull his trousers out of all the nooks and crannies they have edged into during his nap.

“Fíli?” He is startled to realize that his brother is awake and watching him but he can’t help the relieved smile that spreads over his face when he meets Kíli’s gaze.

“How do you feel,” he asks, moving across the room and taking a careful seat on the edge of the bed.

“Like awful,” Kíli answers. He is pouting just a bit, but Fíli doesn’t bother to point it out. With all the dirt scrubbed away and the color back in his cheeks, Kíli looks much better and Fíli feels better to see it. A broken leg isn’t often a life threatening injury in these days of medicines and physicians but the sight of Kíli, still and quiet at the bottom of the range had been pretty harrowing all on its own. 

“I thought you were dead,” he says, after a moment, and Kíli looks very seriously back at him. “When I went to the fence and saw you down there… It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen, Kíli. I’m sorry I left you like that.”

Kíli is quiet for a long time. He doesn’t outright accept Fíli’s apology but after a long moment of silence, he says, “I didn’t tell mother. What you were doing with Alvë, I mean. I said that we were there together and it took you so long to go for help because I wouldn’t let you leave. So… Don’t say anything that doesn’t match up.”

Fíli can’t help the chuckle that escapes him at his brother’s words and, after a moment, Kíli looks up and smiles back at him. “Thanks,” he says.

Kíli laughs and, even though Fíli can detect the weariness in his voice, he tries to sound smug when he says, “Don’t thank me yet. I have a bad leg. I’m going to need some help for a while and I know just the dwarf for the job.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Fíli says, for Kíli’s sake, even though he isn’t really all that bothered by the prospect. 

“You can clean up after me and make my bed and fetch my meals. I have a few books that you are welcome to read aloud at my bedside…”

“All right, you’re pushing your luck, now,” Fíli says but he doesn’t really mean it. Kíli smiles at him and Fíli smiles back.

***

When Dís looks in to check on them, later in the night, she can’t help but smile at the scene before her. Kíli is sound asleep and Fíli is too, hunched over his little brother’s bedside, dozing on an open book. She take a moment to be proud of her boys then gently shakes Fíli awake and ushers him toward his own bed where he falls asleep again almost immediately. Dís marks their place in the book and blows out the candle on Kíli’s bedside table.

With one last smile for her sons, Dís pulls the door shut and leaves them to their dreams.


End file.
